


Back away from the water babe, you might drown

by GingerHoran



Category: One Direction
Genre: Bathtubs, M/M, Multi, Polygamy, Threesome - M/M/M, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerHoran/pseuds/GingerHoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then Niall will be running a bath later that evening, after running to the store to buy cheap wine and rose scent, and gently stepping into the warm water as he waits for his boys to return and this cycle of whatever it is they have going on to turn once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back away from the water babe, you might drown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mizinvizible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizinvizible/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This if for Suz, because you're great and I love ya. And of course to WhoisAlaska, because if you've not realised by now I'm a huge fan and I hope you like this slightly strange little Drabble.

The waters hot, almost too hot, and the steam is effverscing from the water and hitting the cool glass where it forms little teardrops that fall against the marble windowsill.   
Niall lowers himself into the water with a sigh, his muscles loosening as he rests his neck against the cool white ceramic bathtub, his limbs becoming lethargic. 

Niall has stopped trying to think, stopped trying to keep track of everything and everyone, and feelings and emotion. He's just letting it happen, letting them envelope him in warmth away from the snowfall of reality, because there's nothing wrong with whatever it is they have, whatever strange dilapidated connection they have; it's there and he's realised denying it is not going to fix anything.

To be perfectly honest, what's been the most bizarre is how they've both fit themselves like puzzle pieces into his life, and how domestic everything has become.   
It's as if there married, and living within this bustling city, with classical music playing through the flat every night whilst they eat meals and drink wine from chipped coffee mugs. There's ash dusted along the balcony, and Niall can frown as he crawls into their large California bed and flings himself into gangly limbs as he complains about lung cancer but he secretly loves the way Zayn's tongue is bitter. The way he awakes at 3am and crawls out of Harry's tangled legs in just a pair of boxers, lighting that Marlboro, and hollowing his cheeks letting out a billow of smoke as he turns to see Niall sat up in bed eyes wide, and adoring. 

It's just how it is. 

Niall doesn't flinch when he hears the front door slam, and the shout of his name echoing through their Parisian apartment, the usual slam of keys on the kitchen counter and the stumbles up the stairs. 

Niall turned to face the door, a shy smile on his face as Harry came through, he had unbuttoned his tie so it was hanging loosely around his neck and he was wearing two different pairs of socks that Niall had never seen in the entirety of his life. 

Harry smiled wide, pulling of his suit jacket and dropping It to the floor by the door, and sitting cross legged by the bath tub. 

"Hi," he smiled, grasping Niall's outstretched hand an giving it a quick kiss. 

They talked lazily about the usual happenings of that day, Niall laughing contentedly at the little details about how Harry spilt coffee on a colleague, and how he denied a young women of his phone number. 

The water had cooled rapidly by the time Zayn had made it home, noting how Harry's keys were on the counter he removed his paint splattered overalls and dropped them into their bedroom as he made his way down the creaky hallway and to where the bathroom door was slightly ajar letting through a small stream of dim light. 

Niall's skin had crinkled in the bath, long since gone a rosy pink colour, his hair slightly wet at the back of his neck. Whilst Harry was leaning against the bathtub, his shirt crumpled into the corner beside his jacket, as he leaned up to kiss the Irish boy. 

Zayn just smiled like a whisper, the scent of rose tinting the air, the condensation cooling and dripping from the window, the bathtub In the centre of the room with gold taps and curved legs.

Zayn let them kiss, it was slow and languid and deep, Harry's hand coming up to tip Niall's jaw slightly who leant forward his chest bumping the cool surface of the tub. 

They pulled apart, both dizzy and breathless, and Zayn just stood by the door watching the two boys, he smirked when Niall caught his eye, but again Niall doesn't flinch, or waver the grip he keeps on Harry's hand as he pulls away. 

They crowd around the coffee table downstairs, Niall adorning a pair of plaid pajama bottoms as he leans his head on Zayn's shoulder, and lifts his feet into Harry's lap whose cursing at the television whenever the contestant gets an answer wrong, occasionally sending a smile over to Niall whose hair is being finger combed by Zayn. 

Instead of old chipped mugs, Harry finds some little glass flutes in the back of the cupboard with the stiff handle. He pours in some of the usual red wine that they get from the local convenience store, it's not too shabby but doesn't have those fruity tones or hearty smells like a quality chateau. None of them really give a shit though, to be honest. 

Niall remembers clearly when it was all awkward lips, jealous glances and confused feelings; and still sometimes there are those moments where he sits back and thinks about how realistic it is. But then Niall thinks about ordinary bullshit, and power couples and literature and believes that whatever him, Zayn and Harry have got, it may be frowned upon, but at least it's real. 

Getting to bed is simple enough, Harry often takes long, hot showers whilst Zayn's on the balcony with a fag, those reading glasses perched on his nose and a hearty, spineless novel. Niall just lays in bed, bundled up in sheets and waits for that familiar warmth to find him, for Harry to come with dripping hair and nuzzle into his shoulder, for Zayn to press kisses to his neck and whisper his favourite quotes from the book. 

They'll sleep with tangled lips, roaming hands, someone will kick off the sheets with sweat whilst the other two will cuddle together for warmth. Niall will watch Zayn with fascination as he leaves for several times throughout the night for a cig, catching the smoke across his tongue afterwards, and watch as he presses a kiss to both his and Harry's foreheads before he drifts off. 

Niall will also be awoken when Harry's alarm blares at 6am, clawing up into Zayn to hide from the light when the curtains are flung open, and receiving kisses that taste like coffee and bacon and fruit before he leaves. 

Then Niall will be running a bath later that evening, after running to the store to buy cheap wine and rose scent, and gently stepping into the warm water as he waits for his boys to return and this cycle of whatever it is they have going on to turn once more.


End file.
